


Drowning in your eyes

by Nami



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Blood and Violence, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 14:56:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19907581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nami/pseuds/Nami
Summary: When he woke up, Dante smelt blood in the air. It wasn’t a good morning.





	Drowning in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank Tako for betaing this story for me ♥ I thought about dedicating this to wonderful people on Danero discord but maybe I'll wait with that until I post something nicer.
> 
> It's a dark fic (although not as dark as I intended it to be). Look at tags and then decide if you really want to read it.

Drowning in your eyes

Dante woke up with a killer headache. He was laying on the hard ground and he had the distinct feeling that he was covered in something; his skin felt weirdly rough.  _ That _ was less surprising than the headache considering how he had just finished a mission –

Right. He had finished a mission. 

Dante frowned, trying to gather his thoughts. The last thing he remembered was destroying a nest of scarecrows along with some weird plants they had been cultivating. Some of the pollen from those flowers had fallen on him and then – and then –

He couldn’t remember what had happened next. Did someone sneak up on him and hit him? Maybe. Whoever that was definitely didn’t want to kill Dante or even keep him in one place as Dante felt he was not tied up. Unless someone was stupid enough to think that merely holding him in a cell would be enough.

Dante slowly sat up, his muscles burning in protest. He was hurt all over, as if he had been fighting with a powerful demon. 

Ha, as if. 

Something like that would be fun though. Recently missions had been too easy for him and Nero had been too busy with upgrading Red Queen to fight him. Dante was itching for a good fight and he had a feeling that one would happen soon.

When Dante opened his eyes, he almost cursed in surprise. He wasn’t in any cell. 

He was in his own guest bathroom.

That made him frown again. He didn’t remember coming back home. Fuck, he didn’t even remember leaving that demonic nest. What was going on?

Dante looked down at his body, wondering if maybe someone put some spells on him, and he let out a curse when he realized he was half-triggered. Something like that had happened before, mostly after he had been using his devil trigger for too long. Usually, only his torso and maybe a leg too would stay triggered. This time it was his chest and both arms and, after tentatively touching his face, Dante concluded that his whole face was triggered too.

He didn’t understand it and his headache didn’t help him at all. He completely couldn’t focus and Dante felt like he was missing something  _ important. _

Getting frustrated, Dante took a deep breath to try to calm himself down, and it was then that he smelled it.

Blood.

Dante turned towards the bathroom’s door so fast that his neck almost snapped. Now, once he had noticed it, he could smell a lot of blood coming from the guest – Nero’s - bedroom. Something heavy dropped in Dante’s stomach. Even with a skull-pounding headache, Dante didn’t have any problems with recognizing that sweet smell of a mix of human and demon blood. 

It was Nero’s.

“Nero?” Dante called hesitantly.

It was more accurate to say that he  _ tried  _ to call, because the sound he made was barely recognizable as a human’s. No one answered him though. Dante focused on searching for Nero’s presence, that flicker of power always dancing at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t feel him anywhere in the shop or near it. 

Could it have been Nero who put him into the bathroom? Maybe he had gone for Trish or Lady, worried about Dante? 

However, that didn’t explain the scent of blood or how Dante had gotten back home. Or why he felt deep in his bones that something was very wrong. Even his demonic side was confused; that wasn’t comforting.

Dante stood up with shaking legs, trying to will his body back to human shape. It wasn’t working, which was surprising. If anything, Dante should have problems  _ with _ triggering, not with getting  _ out _ of it. 

Dante staggered towards the door, trying to remember something, anything. But he just couldn’t, his mind was completely blank as if someone had pulled a curtain over a part of his memory. 

_ “Dante, stop!” _

Dante froze. An image of Nero’s bruised face appeared behind his eyes and Dante couldn’t remember when Nero had looked like that. The sinking feeling in his stomach was back, now ten times heavier. Had it been him who had spilled Nero’s blood? He had hoped it was demons, maybe when Nero somehow dragged Dante back to the shop but –

Suddenly, feeling weirdly afraid, Dante just blinked at the door in front of him for a few long moments. The smell of blood was stronger now; it made Dante itch to sink his teeth into something. 

Or Someone.

Shaking his head at his demonic urges, Dante opened the door and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the bundle on the floor next to his bed. His lungs suddenly were empty and Dante leaned heavily against the doorframe, his mind assaulted with images and sounds.

_ He coughed, _ feeling  _ pollen from those weird flowers in his nose and throat. Dante hoped it wasn’t too toxic for humans or it would take his body some time to heal itself. He waited for a few minutes but nothing bad was happening. It was the opposite, actually. Dante started to feel  _ good _ , his powers coursing through his body with renewed vigour.  _

_ Dante suddenly felt like he could move mountains without breaking a sweat. He flicked his wrist, red strands of power sliding around his arm, and a whole wall collapsed. It made him laugh and the demon inside him laughed too, enjoying how strong they both were. It felt like nothing could stop Dante – them – now. _

_ He wondered if he would fly all the way back to the Red Grave in this state if he triggered. Dante smiled to himself; a wide grin with too many teeth. Changing into his demonic form sounded  _ fun.  _ Dante’s demonic side was more than happy when the force of Dante triggering destroyed more of ruins around them and – _

Dante slid to his knees and onto the floor , his eyes glued to the bloodied body in front of him. He couldn’t sense  _ anything _ coming from it, not a flicker of a heartbeat and –

_ \- it smelled so nice in the shop when Dante arrived there. The whole place was soaked with Nero’s scent and Dante took a deep breath, enjoying it. But his demon was restless, snarling and twisting in the back of Dante’s mind, growling about how the source of this heavenly smell was so close, how Dante, how  _ they  _ should just go upstairs to it.  _

_ Dante found himself nodding along with that voice. It took him less than a second to reach Nero’s bedroom door and he almost laughed aloud, drunk on his own power – _

— Dante crawled forward, every move more difficult than the previous one. He felt like he had no strength in his limbs left, his heart beating fast, but his mind was numb. Dante’s claws were making deep cuts in the floor and, through the layer of shock, Dante noticed how many other cuts were already decorating the floor, how they all matched the cuts on –

—  _ Nero was always fun to fight and it wasn’t an exception this time. Dante had only wanted to play and so he had jumped onto Nero, all teeth and claws and power, who apparently thought Dante wanted to hurt him. Silly little demon. In no time Dante had him pinned against the wall, Nero’s eyes wide and confused, his lip parted .  _

_ “Let me touch you,” Dante murmured, his inhuman jaw barely able to form human words, leaning down to lick Nero’s lips. Nero’s blood tasted divine and it only fuelled those strange feelings inside of Dante.  _

_ He was high on power and Nero struggling under him only made Dante want to subdue him. Dante’s demon was agreeing with him for once; Dante tightened his hold on Nero’s wrists until the kid wailed in pain. He was so beautiful with teary eyes and bruised skin, and Dante suddenly wished to see more of it. _

_ Dante had wanted Nero for so long. What was wrong in taking what he wanted? He pushed against the kid, grinding his hardening cock against him and relishing in how Nero shuddered under him, trying to break free but unable to do so. Dante was too strong, he had always been stronger and – _

— Nero was on his back, ribs sticking out from his torn chest. His eyes were glossy, his arms and left leg were bent wrong. He was covered in dried blood, teeth and claws marks maring his skin. Something broke in Dante when he noticed white streaks on Nero’s thighs and his stomach –

—  _ Nero keep crying, clawing at the floor and Dante hissed like a demon – he  _ was  _ a demon, powerful and untouchable - grabbing Nero by the back of his throat and holding him down. He was fucking into Nero with his all his strength, enjoying the feel of blood coating his cock, Nero’s human body unable to properly accommodate Dante’s triggered form.  _

_ Nero tried to hit him blindly. Dante caught his hand without any problems and pushed it down, breaking it cleanly in half. Nero screamed in pain, thrashing under Dante, and Dante bore all his weight down, trying to subdue the stubborn demon under him.  _

_ He fucked Nero harder, biting his shoulder blades and nape, his demonic jaws leaving deep wounds on Nero’s body. The kid was saying something, begging him to stop, but Dante only growled at him to be quiet, gripping Nero’s hair and hitting the floor with his head.  _

_ Nero was  _ his _ , Dante fought him, Dante put him down, and Dante with his demon could feast on him, they would make Nero theirs and Nero should thank them. He was so much weaker than Dante, without even a demonic form, and it was Dante’s  _ right _ to show Nero – the prey – his place. _

_ Dante twisted Nero’s head to the side harshly, biting the kid’s throat. He lapped at the hot blood seeping from the wound, marking the kid as his. Nero finally stopped fighting him; he stopped moving at all, letting Dante take what was his, and – _

— Nero’s head laid under an angle that wasn’t  _ normal _ and Dante’s hands trembled when he reached for him. Nero didn’t stir, he didn’t blink. He was looking up at Dante with unseeing eyes, his hair brown from blood, his face so bruised that it was hard to recognize him at first glance. 

Dante was shaking, his breath coming in and out in short gasps. With memories flooding back he remembered what had happened. He remembered vividly how Nero was begging him to stop, how he pleaded, and how ultimately Dante hadn’t listened to him because he and his demon had wanted Nero.

Feisty, brave, sweet Nero. 

Nero, who would never again call Dante ‘an old man’, would never make him coffee in the morning or take out the neighbor’s dogs for a walk. Who would never jump into a battle with a laugh , fast and strong, and so  _ alive _ .

Dante pulled Nero closer – he could vomit if only there was anything in his stomach when Nero’s head lolled around, his throat and spine clearly broken – in a stupid, childish hope that maybe Nero would start breathing again, that maybe this was only a bad dream, nightmares from the deepest parts of Dante’s mind.

But Nero stayed still and cold in Dante’s hold, broken beyond repair.

It was then that Dante screamed, burying his face in Nero’s shoulder. He kept screaming, his voice one of a demon, his body shaking violently and his unleashed powers destroying everything in the room. Dante didn’t even notice the storm around himself, didn’t notice how he had lost his grasp on his powers. Terror was gripping his insides and all Dante wanted was to go back in time, to refuse that mission, to stay home and enjoy the evening with Nero.

Dante’s chest hurt as if his heart broke in two. His demonic instincts were howling in pain, confused about why their favourite little demon wasn’t moving anymore. It was Dante’s fault, he had destroyed the only bit of happiness he had managed to find after all those years and it was killing him inside. 

He was no better than an ordinary demon.

“D-Dante?” 

Dante blinked tears away, turning towards the door. There was Lady; he hadn’t even heard her coming. She was holding a folder under her arm – information about a new mission maybe - and she was looking at him with horror, her hand going to the gun on her waist probably on instinct. 

“I –” Dante tried to say something, anything to make Lady  _ understand _ that he didn’t  _ mean it _ , he  _ didn’t want it to happen _ , yet the sound coming out of his throat was a demonic hiss.

He gripped Nero – Nero, who was so cold, and wasn’t smiling, and he would never smile again, and it was all Dante’s fault - more tightly, letting out a hollowed sob.

_ He didn’t want this. _

His demonic voice only made Lady flinch violently. She jumped back and raised her gun, aiming for his head, no hesitation in her moves. 

There were tears in her eyes, though.

Clutching Nero’s dead body against his still transformed chest, Dante didn’t even raise his arms to protect himself when Lady pulled the trigger, her expression twisted between horrified and grief. He was almost grateful for the chance to fall unconscious from a bullet to his head.

And, with some part of his brain which wasn’t numb from the gravity of what he had done, Dante wished that just this once Lady’s bullets would overpower his healing abilities. 

He didn’t want to open his eyes ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what do you think about it ;)
> 
> I blame Luna and her tweet about a "better way to go" because people unanimously voted that for Nero it'd be on Dante's dick and, well, this is almost exactly what happened in this story.
> 
> My [twitter](http://twitter.com/firebyfire) where I talk mostly about Danero. Let's be friends ^^


End file.
